


Distorted Reflections

by BeanWrites (Andromeda_Astrea)



Category: Mach GoGoGo | Speed Racer, 宝石の国 | Houseki no Kuni | Land of the Lustrous (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gems Use They/Them Pronouns Deal with It, Gen, Nonbinary Character, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, technically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-26 01:57:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18174329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromeda_Astrea/pseuds/BeanWrites
Summary: Looking in the mirror is never a true reflection. No matter what it is always warped.Some are just more warped than others.Pulled together across dimensions, two reflections must join forces and defeat a crooked scheme and return home.





	1. Vanish

**Author's Note:**

> So for anyone who loves Houseki no Kuni, this is largely an AU with only sparse references to canon characters. Sorry.
> 
> For art based on the story, look to my Instagram: @bean.writes.stuff, as well as updates on the story and other cool projects.
> 
> Land of the Lustrous/Houseki no Kuni is owned by Haruko Ichikawa and Studio Orange.  
> Speed Racer/Mach Gogogo is owned by Tatsunoko Productions.

The sun rose across the clear blue water that surrounded a sole island. Wind blew through the tall grasslands, the shores, swamps, and forest. In the center of it all was a large stone building with a large pond and bell out front.

Figures in black uniforms ran across the landscape, always in pairs. Long limbs, powder white skin, and hair every shape, color, and length, glittering and moving in unnatural ways as the sunlight caught it. Long wooden sheaths smacked the back of their thighs as they ran. 

Off in the grasslands by the shore, a single figure crouched, hunched over a large clipboard, writing shorthand notes as they observed a bee pollinating a flower. As they sketched the delicate wing membranes they hummed a bouncing tune. 

The figure was identical to all the others, save for their color of hair, eyes, and nails. In this case they had bright yellow hair that was somewhere between neat and messy, curled slightly at the ends. A bright red bandana with a white lining held a majority of the sparkling yellow hair back, but their bangs stubbornly refused to be held back. They wore long white gloves and socks, paired with black, low-heeled oxfords.shoes.

“Just a little more detail aaannnd,” they scratched in a final line with a flourish. “Done!” 

They fell back on their behind with a  _ thump _ and held their work out for a better look. The little bee in question landed on their shoulder, as if wanting to appraise the ‘portrait’. Bits of yellow light bounced around the page from the artist's hair, giving color to the colorless sketch. “Not bad, I’ll add the information when I get back to the school tonight.” 

The yellow haired being stood, the bee happily buzzing off. Pale limbs stretched and the clipboard was put in a canvas bag that they put over their shoulders. 

“Heliodor!” A voice called out behind them. The yellow haired being turned around to see two other uniformed clad beings. The one in front being blue with a pompadour hairstyle, short black gloves, a red piece of gem on their tie. Their feet stood out, sparkling red with a clean line that made it look like they were wearing red socks. The one not far behind had pink hair in a bob with a long white ribbon tied in a bow on the left side of their head, no socks or gloves, a slightly different style shoe, and a canvas bag much like Heliodor’s.

“Sapphire! Morganite!” Heliodor waved at the two. The blue one, Sapphire, skidded to a stop, Morganite not far behind. “Have a fun patrol?”

Morganite rolled their eyes, crossing their arms. “Nope, it was just as boring as usual. But...boring is better than an attack.”

“I feel ya Morga,” Sapphire nodded, fiddling with the cuffs of their gloves, the red gem on their tie. “Found anything fun Helio?” 

“I’ve been documenting the local fauna of the Hollow Cape, but I also found what may be a new species of butterfly here in the grasslands.” They pulled out a roll of paper and showed the duo a sketch of a orange and black butterfly. The two ‘ooh’ed in curiosity. 

“Did you see the Agates?” Morga asked. “Apparently they accidentally ran off the side of the rocks seeing who could run faster. They had to be put in bags to get back.” Heliodor rolled their eyes. The Agates, nicknamed Lake and Stripes, were identical twins and often tried to goad others into competitions. 

Sapphire sighed. “At least they weren’t attacked, they may be troublesome but they’re not bad Gems.” Heliodor and Morganite nodded. As their conversation settled into a lull, the wind anxiously picked up. The three Gems looked around, looking to the sky. Heliodor jolted, pulling their long, black blade from its sheath,

“There! Southwest!” Sapphire and Morganite pull their swords out, moving to defensive positions. High in the sky, two black shapes spread like ink in abstract ways.

“A double sunspot!” Morga yelled. Heliodor’s eyes flickered rapidly around, trying to soak in all of the details. Sapphire gripped their sword tighter,

“Get ready! Something’s coming out!” A large, wolf-like figure emerged, hovering on a single, cream colored cloud. Wearing an ensemble much more elaborate and detailed than the trio, it  was more than double their combined height. Morga gasped as it reached behind it’s back to pull out a large slightly bowed platter. It roared and swiped at the three with the platter, leaping from the cloud. The glittering trio scattered, colored streaks following them. The creature launched after them sending large swipes at them, knocking them into the air. 

Sapphire let out a battle cry and used the momentum to launch at the creature, sword at the ready. It caught them and sent them skidding back, nearly cracking them. They ducked as  Morganite leaped over them, slashing at the creature while Heliodor leaped up and dove at the creature’s back.

The beast responded in kind by knocking Morganite back into Sapphire and hitting Heliodor away with a backhand. The bright yellow gem landed with a roll, spun around, and sprinted over to the other two.

“It’s too fast!” Heliodor stated. They gripped their sword. Jumped and rolled over the sweeping arm of the creature. Jump. Dodge. Land. Run. Jump. Slash. Dodge. Run. The three tried to find a way to counter the creature, who used the still present cloud to it’s advantage. As they ran around, jumping and dodging the swipes of the creature’s clawed hands, they found that three swipes from their swords at the joints of the creature disabled them. 

The legs were easy, as was the waist and one wrist. Heliodor leaped in for a shot at the creature’s shoulder, only to be smacked by the creature’s still usable arm. As they went flying, the platter in the creature’s other hand glowed an oily black and with a swipe, Heliodor was gone, passing through the darkness quicker than they could scream.

:”Heliodor!!!” Morganite and Sapphire yelled. The two partners ran around the creature, attacking at its spine relentlessly. 

“You stupid Moon monster!!” Sapphire yelled. “Stealing our friend away for death and ornamentation!!” 

The creature roared and smacked Sapphire up with the back side of the platter and, as Morganite crossed under to try and catch their partner, the monster slammed the platter down, engulfing them in black.


	2. Dimensional Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I don't own jack crap.

It was a funny thing, science. Many inventions helped save lives, improved safety, advanced society, or were just plain fun. Other times one could wonder if it was even worth the effort. Sparky often mused on the scientists gone mad or evil throughout the various adventures his best friend went through. He absently sipped his cinnamon roll flavored milkshake as he sketched out design ideas and other assorted doodles on a stray napkin.

The cafe he sat at was rather low in population today, strange for a Friday evening. The warm, comforting browns, maroons, and oranges of the cafe walls, accented by the greens of various plants scattered about, smelled of various drinks and light snacks. It was a popular spot for local artists, writers, and composers, and Sparky often frequented it when he was in need of some inspiration when he hit some problems with a particular car or if he got too stressed. 

As the thunderstorm raged outside he was reminded of why he’d come. He’d burned himself out while working, actually falling and getting hurt. 

He eyed the bandages wrapped around the stitched up cuts along his hand and arm, sprained wrist on the opposite arm, and the compression bandage on his sprained ankle. With all those injuries, Pops told him he couldn’t work in the shop until he was healed. He sketched using the stitched hand, other hand resting on a small stack of fabric made from a folded bandana. 

The sketch was a simple thing, a car similar in shape to the Mach 5 in mid-curve turn, red pen ink forming the curved “M” on the hood. The car was one of the best in the world, and as he remembered the various types of gangs and villains trying to get ahold of the engine or the entire car, usually with kidnappings or gunfights. 

He remembered before Speed went pro, the days where the most stressful thing happening in the day was a deadline for a customer, days spent tinkering and fixing cars. Still, he wouldn’t change it if it made his friend happy. The eighteen year old flicked the glass face of his watch, calculating the time difference from where he was to where Speed, Trixie, and Pops were, nine hours ahead. He couldn’t even travel with them to the next race.

“And the Axel & Roses Rally is in such a nice place too,” Sparky pouted. “No rain, mountains, cool animals found nowhere else. Oh well.” He looked at his watch again, “I’d better get going. It’s getting late.”

Sparky stood, grabbing his hat and yellow raincoat and limped out, red rain boots squeaking on the tile floor. He pulled his hood up and entered the heavy sheets of rain. The water was an inch deep in some places, and Sparky was glad he'd remembered to put his car in the garage tonight. 

He made his way through the streets, minding his own business, hearing the occasional car, hustling pedestrian, or uncaring raccoon in an alley as he passed by. The chill in the air intensified and Sparky instinctively pulled his hands further into his too large sleeves, not wanting his bandages to get wet, lest the stitches dissolve. He hobbled along wincing as his sprained ankle twinged. 

The doctors thought he didn’t need crutches. Sparky thought they were full of shit.

As he made his way past the busiest intersection in town, a tall man in a trenchcoat slammed past him, knocking him to the ground. Sparky yelped as he hit the ground on his sprained side, thankfully landing on his upper arm rather than his wrist. The water that coated the ground splashed up into his face, blurring his vision.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!!” Sparky yelled after the man, getting to his feet and trying to blink away the water. The man turned, several feet away from him and gave him a sneer. 

“Little kids like you shouldn’t be out so late.” Ah, so he was trying to intimidate Sparky. It may have worked, but Sparky knew better than to let him know that. 

“Doesn’t matter who I am, watch where you’re going.” The man growled and looked to advance on Sparky ( _ Why is it their first instinct to fight? _ Sparky thought) when a handheld radio in the man’s pocket let out a squawk. Trench Coat Man pulled the device from his pocket as he turned on his heel.

“Consider yourself lucky this time kid,” He snarled over his shoulder. “Next time you won’t be so lucky.”

Sparky’s nose scrunched up in distaste as the man walked away. The man’s rough voice carried over the falling rain, and Sparky heard the words,

“We’ll get what we want. Or else.” 

Sparky’s eyes widened and, using the rain as cover for his footsteps, he followed the man at a distance. The pursuer and pursued went all the way to the warehouse district, where Sparky used the various crates to hide and peek.

The man stopped at warehouse number 3, and signaled to those inside to let him in. Sparky peered out, and as a truck approached, he slid underneath, clinging to the undercarriage. It was a common military-type truck, a type he was well versed in fixing for collectors and former soldiers who got to keep theirs. 

The man and truck went into the warehouse, plunging into the cliche darkness. As the truck slowed to a stop, Sparky dropped and rolled from the undercarriage to the cover of some more crates. As he looked around for any passing guards, he was mentally kicking himself.

_ You dummy, you were just talking about missing peaceful days and you went and did this without thinking.  _ He thought. As Trench Coat Man continued forward, Sparky peered over the crates, noting how loose their security was. No patrolling guards, no big guns. Nothing. He’d feel right foolish if he followed someone for nothing. He pulled his hood off to prevent it from squeaking and he crept further into the warehouse. 

The warehouse was full of crates and shelves with  _ more _ crates. There were bits of machinery interspersed throughout the area, but there was a large area in the center absolutely covered in machines of all types. 

Closest to the door Sparky had come in was a work table that was dotted with various backup parts of some sort, to the left was a welder, to the right was a table for power tools and an air compressor. The left wall was a small cot and a sink, obviously for some form of captive. 

“It’s always a captive isn’t it?” Sparky muttered to himself. At the opposite wall were large bins of scrap and opened crates with more parts coming out of the packing material. The biggest thing in the warehouse occupied the area opposite the work table. 

It was a large arch that was elevated on a large platform. Large, industrial strength black tubes ran from it to various computers and miscellaneous machines around it. Occupying the spaces around the arch were several men, guards carrying blunt weapons, and an older man, maybe around his mid-60s, with thinning salt-and-pepper hair and worn skin. He was obviously a scientist, evidenced by his lab coat, thick gloves, and safety glasses. As Trench Coat approached, the scientist turned and Sparky recognized him instantly.

_ Golly, that’s Dr. James Atlas,  _ Sparky thought, recalling the story on his work from some of his journals.  _ He’s known for his work on quantum mechanics, astrophysics, and relativity. He went missing three months back. What do they have him here for? _

“Atlas!” The doctor jumped at the console he’d been typing away at and spun on his heel to face Trench Coat. The taller man walked over to the scientist and shoved him against the console. “This had better work, or else the cops’ll only find ya at the bottom of the bay strapped to a cinder block.”

The doctor gulped nodding, holding his hands up in surrender. Sparky edged closer, his ankle thankfully not putting up a protest.

“It will, it will,” Dr Atlas quivered. Sparky felt bad for the poor man, stolen from his home to be caged here for weeks, forced to work on….whatever that arch was. The scientist tapped a sequence into the console and a large one just to the left of the arch flickered on. The screen showed a green wireframe image that reminded Sparky of those diagrams on wormholes he’d seen. Large blocks of text and numbers scrolled past on the screen until one word flicked onto the screen.

**Ready.**

Sparky was only a shelf and a half away from them now, and only then it dawned on him as to how he was going to escape should things get hairy.  “But just what is their plan?” He murmured. 

“I still don’t understand your interest in my work Mr. Alloy. My work was only theoretical. What could it possibly have to do with your steel and oil company?” 

“Well if you must know,” Alloy smirked, quite proud with himself. “Oil and metal are finite, that's a simple fact that none of my competition seems to realize yet. However, using multiple worlds, my companies will never run out! And by installing one at each of my four factories across the globe, it'll appear as though it is coming straight from our own Earth!” 

_ So, fraud? _ Sparky thought.  _ Not quite the usual ambitions of falk like these but still bad. _

Alloy smirked and pulled the doctor to face him in a rather predatory manner, giving Sparky a bad feeling in his gut. “Well my good doctor, prepare the first test.” Atlas gulped, pulling away and starting up the sequence. 

The arch sparked momentarily as a large humming noise filled the warehouse. The fluorescents flickered before going out, a few on the very edge bursting in a shower of sparks. Sparky grabbed a hold of the nearest support column as the ground beneath them began to shake, swaying the still functioning lights, boxes, and shelves. The guards all around braced themselves, as did Dr Atlas. 

As the shaking raised to a crescendo, bolts of electricity appeared between each of the six points that shot inward of the arch. They combined and a flash of light momentarily blinded everyone. When their vision returned, the shaking had stopped and a swirling, shimmering, blue portal was anchored between the arches. It looked like it could easily fit one of the military trucks Sparky had hitched a ride in on. 

“It works,” Dr. Atlas stared in awe. Alloy looked like a spoiled kid on Christmas, feeling as though he got what he deserved. He swaggered up the steps to the portal, hand out to reach through. 

_ What an idiot,  _ Sparky thought.  _ A foolish greed-for-brains, overcompensating lemon twit! _

“Mr Alloy that is not necessary for you to reach in there, we have a—”

“Shut up you weakling. This is  **_my_ ** portal, and I shall send through what  **_I_ ** see fit.” He reached out and just as he was about to reach in, the portal collapsed in on itself before exploding back out with a force that sent Alloy flying into a group of guards. 

The portal now moved and shifted in unnatural ways, shining like oil. The rumbling began again as the shockwave also sent the others in the vicinity (sans Sparky, shielded behind the support column) tumbling. A gale force wind came from within its depths, howling and shifting as the portal did. 

“Atlas!” Alloy bellowed over the wind. At this point boxes were being shoved off the shelves and crashing to the floor, one nearly hitting Sparky. The boy in question held his hat firmly on his head as he grasped for purchase as the wind began to blast him from around the column. “What is going on!?”

“It appears that the portal has been overridden! Something’s coming through!” From the howl of the wind emerged a new sound. It sounded human, like a person screaming as they fell. It grew closer until a fast moving blur emerged, slamming into Alloy and barreling past him. The blur crashed through the glass above them. The portal gave one last hurrah before, 

**_BOOOM!!!_ **

Sparky was flung back along with everyone else as the arch exploded in a flash. He landed on his shoulder, skidding along and ripping the stitches on his sleeve and the arm underneath, his face protected by his hood flopping back up as he fell. He hit the wall next to the partially open door, before things snapped to black. 

* * *

It was a dizzying feeling as he woke up, ears ringing and world spinning. Rain was coming through both the door and the new hole in the roof. His chest ached as he breathed. The rain got in his eyes as he rolled onto his side, pushing himself up. His arms ached something fierce and his ankle throbbed.

All around him there was crumbled ruins, warped metal and, chillingly enough, a few limbs stuck out at odd angles from the rubble. A weight dropped into Sparky’s gut, not sure as to the fates of the others who were in the building. He looked to the plume of smoke rising from the remains of the portal arch. 

“This can’t be happening,” Sparky wasn’t sure what to do. Run? Try to look for survivors? Find that blur? His mind was spinning. Was that blood on that metal rebar?

There was a groan from where the console once was. Sparky’s attention snapped to where the rubble shifted, and Dr. Atlas emerged. A smile of relief broke across Sparky’s face. He leaped over the rubble, limping to the doctor. 

“Dr. Atlas! Are you okay?” He called out.

“Oh! Who are you?” Dr. Atlas noticed him as Sparky stepped over the rubble.

“The name’s Sparky. But that’s not important right now. Are you hurt?” The doctor winced as he tried to walk. 

“I’m not sure,” he surveyed the carnage around them. “I just want to go home.” Sparky offered the older man a hand, and helped him maneuver the rubble. As they exited the building they saw something strange.

There were a large number of crates cracked and forced back by the blast, splintered, cracked and a few destroyed. Water soaked the contents, but what caught their attention was a wavering yellow glow, like light reflected on water, except it was as yellow as the sun.

“That was the thing that hit Alloy,” Sparky realized. Dr. Atlas squinted through his cracked glasses. 

“It could be dangerous.” 

A groan, eerily familiar, came from the crates. There was movement and the two men jumped, if such a thing was possible given their injuries. Dr. Atlas looked across the docks as sirens began wailing, signaling the far off approach of emergency services. 

“Holy cannoli,” Sparky breathed. The professor took his arm from Sparky gently, stumbling over to the source of the glowing. Sparky joined him, and both gasped.

Laying in the soaked packing straw and shattered crates was...Sparky? It looked like him, but so...wrong.

They looked neither male nor female, with deathly pale skin and too long limbs. Clad in a black leotard that looked like it was meant to imitate a suit with inappropriately short shorts, white belt, long white thigh highs and gloves, a canvas bag, black shoes, and a red bandana in place of a hat. 

What was freakiest was their hair and face. They resembled him in all but color. Instead of brown hair and silver-gray eyes, it looked like they were made out of solid gemstone, as yellow as Sparky’s shirt, and as the person opened their eyes, it seemed the trend continued to the rest of their features. The Sparky lookalike blinked and gasped as they leaped to an alert position, pulling out a black bladed sword from the wood sheath that dangled from their belt.

“You won’t shatter me today Moon People.” It was his voice.  _ His _ voice, a little more neutral, but desperate and severe. 

“Moon People?” Dr. Atlas questioned. The Yellow Sparky blinked and gasped, lowering their sword.

“Are you two….humans?”

“Is there any other species like us?” Sparky quirked an eyebrow. Yellow Sparky blinked.

“You sound—”

“—Just like me.” Dr Atlas looked between the two before shaking his head. 

“Okay, we don’t have much time. You two can’t be found here when emergency services show up. You could be charged Sparky and you—”

“Heliodor.”

“And Heliodor could be taken in for experimentation. Alloy, if he survived, will have men come after me and you two shouldn’t be put in harm's way. You two need to run, take this with you.” He handed Sparky a bundle of film canisters. “Don’t let these fall into the wrong hands. I’ll contact you when I can.”

“Wha???” Heliodor looked around the wrecked docks anxiously, sheathing their sword. Sparky sighed,

“Alright. Are ya sure you’ll be okay?” At Dr. Atlas’s nod, Sparky sighed and nodded. “Okay. Call us when you’re safe. C’mon Heliodor, let’s get out of here.”

“Only if you tell me everything you know when we get somewhere safe,” Heliodor reluctantly stated. Sparky set Dr. Atlas down on one of the lesser damaged crates and turned to the gem haired lookalike. 

“Let’s get going.” He turned to walk and winced as his ankle twinged. Heliodor rolled their eyes. 

“Here, direct me.” They picked Sparky up like he weighed nothing and as soon as Sparky began giving him directions, began running faster than any human they’d ever seen, leaving a trail of yellow light behind them.

“hOLY SHIT!!” Sparky yelled as Heliodor carried him through the still stroming city streets, dodging late night cars and approaching EMT vehicles. “LEFT! RIGHT! LEFT! HOW ARE YOU RUNNING SO FAST!!??”

“I’m not even going that fast,” Heliodor stated. 

“HOLY SHIT THAT’S A TRAIN STOP STOP STOP!!!!” He yelled as Heliodor poured on the speed and  _ leapt over the train. _ They hit the ground running and sped off.

 

After several more minutes of disastrous navigation, they arrived at Sparky’s home just on the edge of the city. Heliodor skidded to a stop, soaking their socks further. They set Sparky down gently. The eighteen year old wheezed, standing on unsure legs.

“Ugh the day just  _ keeps getting weirder, _ ” Sparky sighed.

“Tell me about it. I thought I was gonna be shattered today.” 

Sparky pulled Heliodor into his house, opening it with his stitched hand and locking it behind them. Thankfully no one else was home, so there was no one to explain Heliodor to. He pulled his red rain boots off, noting Heliodor watching and then copying.

“Stay here, I’ll get us some towels to dry of with. And some spare clothes.” Heliodor, preoccupied with their canvas bag and its contents, stayed there. Sparky hung his coat and hat on the hooks and hobbled along, wincing at the damp spots his socks left on the carpet. He went into the laundry room and grabbed two sets of pajamas, one a ¾ sleeve set and the other short sleeve, as well as a bunch of towels and the First Aid kit. 

As he came back in he noticed that Heliodor had pulled several items out, checking the condition of each. There were two large pots, what looked like small makeup brushes, a sort of pencil, a clipboard and several soaked sheets of paper. The last set were in Heliodor’s no longer gloved hands, showcasing yellow fingernails, as the drenched being tried to separate the pieces.

“Nononononononononono,” They chanted like a prayer as they peeled two sheets apart only to sigh defeat as the two tore into pieces. Several sheets around them, including those with drawings and information on them, seemed to have suffered the same fate. “I’m glad I didn’t bring any of my other records with me on patrol today, otherwise I’d’ve lost several weeks of work. Still, Sensei will be upset that I ruined all this paper.”

“D’ya have a material shortage where you’re from?” Sparky asked innocently, handing Heliodor the short sleeve pajama set and a few towels. Heliodor looked at the towels apprehensively. “Don’t worry about the towels, they’re clean.”

“I just don’t want to stain them.” 

“Don’t worry, they’re already stained, I use them whenever I get all messy in the garage or in day to day stuff.” Sparky pointed out the faded assortment of stains on the cloth.

“O-Okay, thank you.” They patted their hair dry, followed by their face. “I’m glad my powder stayed dry, that’d be a mess to deal with.” They pulled away the towel, revealing skin colored splotches on the towel, matching similar sized gem patches on their face. Sparky jumped in surprise as he dried his own hair.

“.....So…..We never formally introduced ourselves. I’m Sparky.”

“Heliodor, but you can call me Helio. And you’re….human? I’m not on the Moon?”

“I’m completely sure I’m human, and you’re definitely not on the moon. You’re a….living gemstone?”

“We call ourselves Gems or Lustrous, yes.” By now their face and limbs were completely yellow. “Do you mind if I undress? I’ve got to dry off ASAP.” 

“Go for it. I won’t look. I’ve got to change too.” 

“Thanks.” There was a sound of wet fabric hitting the floor as the two near twins undressed, dried and redressed. As they both finished, they turned, each noticing the glaring issues pressing the other. Sparky noticed Helio’s lack of powder, leaving a sheer body of gemstone. Helio meanwhile noticed Sparky’s lazily bleeding arm and swollen limbs.

“Um, is that red stuff supposed to be outside?” They pointed to the blood. Sparky looked at it and sighed. 

“No,” he pulled the bandages off, each one soggy and gross. “I have to patch it up, but at least it's only two stitches that popped.”

Heliodor slowly got up, their glittering body casting light and moving shadows in the lamplight.  “Do you need help?”

“That’d be groovy.”

“Groo-vee?” 

“It means great or cool, its a slang term,” he handed them a roll bandage, placing some gauze pads where the opened parts of his cut were. “I’ll hold these in place, all you have to do is wrap that around a few times. But not too tight.”

Heliodor looked at the bandage, observing its self-adhesiveness, before following Sparky’s instructions. 

“What did ya mean earlier? When you weren’t sure about me and the doctor being human?” Heliodor shifted on their feet, looking at their papers on the floor forlornly. 

“I wasn’t sure because, where I’m from, humans are extinct.”

“What!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a review if you enjoyed, or if you have any questions.


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